Page 15 of Isolation

I zipped my bag with force. “That woman is upset about her brother and looking for someone to blame.”

Jenkins nodded. “I was just wondering.”

I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the exit. I could tell they were watching me curiously, some suspiciously.

Outside, I took a deep breath and steadied myself. Remi knew something, but I wasn’t sure how much. The court was empty now, and the lights were dimmed. My phone pinged in my hand. Notifications were racking up like bodies. I hadn’t checked my phone since practice ended.I swiped it open.

Yo, man, we need to talk about what happened with Remi. That didn’t look right, man.

I deleted it. The next few were other teammates, some suspicious and others concerned. Everyone got the same treatment. Deleted. I wasn’t having conversations over text where words could be screenshotted and used against me at a later date.

The last one was from Coach.

My office 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.

My thumb hovered over it, and I deleted that one too. I’d hear whatever he had to say tomorrow. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down. That goddamn pop and his head hitting the floor wasn’t part of the plan, but I can’t look back now.

Delete. Delete.

I erased every message to the point where people had me questioning myself. I closed the messages app and opened my photos. I scrolled back to Mason’s fifth birthday. He had cake icing smeared on his face and was wearing a mini jersey with my number on it. Danica was behind him smiling. The fire from the candles reflected in her eyes. Everything I’d fought for was in this single frame.

My phone buzzed with another message.

Word is Remi is talking to a lawyer, you better lawyer up too.

After the digital clean up, I looked up to a figure in the doorway across the gym. My head snapped up. I didn’t know who to expect, but it was Danica. She wore her work clothes, fitted black pants and a cream-colored sweater with her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

I recognized her body language, her crisis stance. Straight posture and chin raised meant shit was about to hit the fan. Our eyes locked.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” I said as I quickly locked the screen on my phone. She didn’t answer right away. She just studied me. The weight of her gaze made my skin prickle.

“Practice ran late, and then I had to speak with a coach about my minutes,” I added to fill the silence.

Technically, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. I could tell the way her eyebrows were lifted she knew the difference.

“I saw Remi in the parking lot. She was upset.”

Fuck.Of course, she did.

“She’s taking it hard… Pearson’s injury.” I nodded.

“Remi said some things.”

“Like what?” My heartbeat kicked up a notch.

Dani shook her head. She was good at the strategic pause, creating space for people to fill in the blanks with their own conclusions. It was what made her such a force in crisis PR.

I slid my phone into my pocket. “Whatever she said, she’s looking for someone to blame.”

“Is there someone to blame?” she questioned.

For a split second, I considered telling her—the pressure, my fading opportunity, the consequences left me spiraling beyond my control. Still, Dani was the one person I didn’t have to perform for. She was my confidante, my rock. However, the disappointment in her eyes stopped me. She acted as if she already knew the answer and baited me to lie to her face.

I nodded and forced a smile as I headed her way. “Like I been saying, it’s basketball and shit happens. You of all people should know that.”

She watched me approach. Her face was neutral. I could tell she was assessing damage, calculating angles, and planning containment strategies. The fact that she was doing it with me told me everything I needed to know how bad this was getting. I leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she allowed it but didn’t return the gesture.

“Are you hungry? We can grab something on the way home.”

---